Without Duo
by Ryo0oki
Summary: Lying, halfdead on a battlefield, Duo accepts an offer. Now his past is back to life, but is this what Duo really wanted? Dark. [COMPLETE]


Well I can't say much about this fic. I don't know what possessed me to write something like this, but it's really really weird. And confusing. Just read it.

Warnings: Shounen Ai (Solo+Duo), Weird, Gross (kind of), Angst, Death...

Without Duo

The light...

I'm dying. I know I am. There is blood pouring from my lips as I lie here, cold and deserted, on a battlefield full of the dead. Gone to a world that I would join in a few minutes.

I gasp as a particular painful jolt runs through my body. Would they find me? The battle was over, the war was won, and Shinigami was dead. There were thousands of corpses, and I was but a soldier, a useless soldier in a war, disposed of as needed.

I'm dying and I can see the light. 

It's blinding. I'm gasping for air, and breathing my own life away, but all I see is the light.

And then I think about the offer.

"I can bring it all back. Solo, Helen, Father Maxwell. I can bring your dead past to life. You won't ever suffer from the pain of fighting again. I can give you that."

Deathscythe was lying in little pieces of Gundanium- proof of the power in Libra's cannon. Hell, what was I saying? It could tear apart the Earth! Deathscythe just seemed so.. indestructible. 

Here I am though, no hope, no pain, nothing except that offer that rings through my mind.

"I can bring it all back..."

Yes, but it won't be the same.

"Solo..."

I'd do anything to see you again...

"Helen, Father Maxwell..."

It was my fault you died...mine...

"Dead past to life..."

"Won't ever suffer..."

I can hear the light calling my name and I know my time is almost up. And with my last breath, I said, "Ok."

---------------------------195 AC----

15 year old Ray Maxwell brushed some loose locks of his shoulder-length brown hair back and smiled. Today would be the day. He would finally give himself to Solo.

The violet-eyed youth had been extremely stubborn about sex, but today he would surprise Solo. 

Ray was so happy about himself, he almost sang. Almost. He was a boy after all. Gay, but still a boy. He took a deep breath and started down the stairs. 

Ray was an orphan, taken in by Father Maxwell. He had been so little back then, with a braid almost longer than his body. But now he had short hair, finally cutting it after Father Maxwell's urgings. 

"Yo- Solo! Wait up!"

Ray had caught sight of Solo. His waist-length blonde hair made him an easy target, after all.

Solo turned from his position at the bottom of the stairs and smiled at Duo. "So, lova boy, what's tha plan for today?"

"Well," Ray said, smiling what he hoped to be a seductive smile. "I think I'm ready."

"Oh really..."

"Um hm. I'm all yours today. Your student for the teaching."

"Well, if you're sure," Solo said, smirking, "Let the lessons begin."

------------

"Oh yes... right there... yes- yes!!"

Solo paused from his ministrations and muttered, "Ray, if you think this is good, wait til we get to the actual sex." He continued massaging the boy, almost laughing when he asked,

"You mean this **isn't** sex?"

"Poor sheltered..."

"Alright, give me a break."

The two were at the top of the hayloft, both pretty much naked. Ray was moaning in pleasure and need, his teenage hormones starting to be satisfied. Solo was nibbling at the younger boy's skin, pinching his nipples, and sometimes brushing his obvious erection. It was all something that shouldn't be happening the house of a priest.

"Ray! Where are you?"

"Damn," Solo said, working now with an urgency. "Don't worry."

"No..." Ray said, pulling away, despite his body's protests. "Later... we have all our lives."

And he left Solo in the loft, with a hard-on and no one to satisfy it with.

--------------

"Hey?" Ray asked, looking for Sister Helen. "Did you call me?"

"Yes," came a hushed voice, "Ray, come over here."

"Sister Helen?" Ray questioned, looking for the sound of the voice. He found the nun crouching behind a tower of wooden boxes. And in her hands...

"Who's the guy?" Ray asked, looking over the blood-stained orange flight suit and the unruly brown mop of hair. A feeling down in his groin stirred again, and he tried to suppress it. God- he didn't want Helen to see him with a hard-on!

"He's a soldier," Helen said, pulling out the first aid kit from behind her. "One of the Gundam pilots. We have to hide him or else OZ will find him."

"But there's a search warrant out for these guys!" Ray protested, half torn between his duty to the church and the coolness of meeting a Gundam pilot. "Wouldn't it be better- and safer- to turn him over?"

"We value life," Sister Helen said simply.

"Well, what about ours?!" Ray asked. 

"That's why I need your help," she said. "Father Maxwell won't understand. And as a nun... I'm not allowed to..."

"Yeah," Ray sighed. "I gotcha. I'll help, I guess. Shouldn't we get him inside or something?"

"Your room?"

"Yup."

--------------

Bed. Soft. Pain. Left ribs, most likely broken. Shoulder dislocated. Captured? Possibility.

Heero continued his mental analysis, while pretending to be unconscious. He had to find out where he was. 

His mission on L2 was to find the notorious mobile suit manufacturing base and destroy it. But the shuttle he had stowed away on had been bugged by Oz and he had been forced to take control of the shuttle and crash it into the colony. In the panic, he had crept away, only to collapse from his crash injuries. 

There was someone else in the room. He heard the faint rustling of clothing and concluded the person was pacing. He wouldn't get anywhere without opening his eyes. 

So he did.

"Oh! You're awake," the person- a boy -said, "That's good. Your injuries are serious, but we couldn't get you to a doctor. You're wanted, there are posters of your face everywhere. My name is Ray, what's yours?"

Heero stared blankly at the hyperactive boy. 

"You're probably wondering where you are," Ray babbled. "Well, you're in the Maxwell Church- my room actually. One of the nuns found you." He paused, waiting to see if the soldier had any questions. "Not very talkative, eh? That's okay, you're safe here. We won't turn you over. Promise."

Heero closed his eyes again, having gathered all the information he needed.

Over the next few days, Heero gradually got better, although no one ever figured out how his shoulder was back in his socket or how his ribs set themselves. Ray spent a lot of time in his room, telling Heero stories (although he didn't even know the soldier's name) that he had learned from Solo or Sister Helen. Solo did get a bit jealous, but Ray assured him it was only because Sister Helen wanted him to take care of the young soldier. Truth was, he liked spending time with Heero, despite the fact that he never talked. 

And the week passed like that.

-----------

Ray woke up.

It was dark, and there was no reason for him to be up, but he felt something. He glanced over to Heero's bed. It was empty. The bedroom door was open. Ray suddenly felt a sickening feeling, as if he knew something bad had happened.

Slipping on a jacket and some pants, he stepped out into the hallway. Instantly he detected the coppery scent of blood.

"Solo?" he whispered, silently stepping over the blonde man's room. The door was wide open. Ray walked in.

Solo, his almost lover, was lying on the wooden floor, blood leaking from his head. Something gray was also visible and Ray's stomach gave a lurch

"Solo?" Ray asked, hoping to God that he wasn't dead, even though the brunette knew he was. "Please- oh God..."

Ray turned, unable to look at the ghastly sight. He shut the door behind him, taking deep breaths. "This is a dream, please let it be a dream... please..."

Ray continued down the hall, his feet moving like they weren't under his control. There was nothing, and he thought it was over. Until he reached the stairs and saw the bodies. 

Corpses of nuns were lying in disarray, blood pouring from their chest, or forehead. Ray tried to swallow the bile that was rising up his throat, but he turned his head and threw up instead. 

Panting, Ray wiped his mouth with his sleeve, took a deep breath and continued down the stairs. He carefully avoided the corpses, until he saw Sister Helen.

"Helen," he said, almost breaking into tears. "Oh no... don't be dead too... not you too!" Some feeling of deja vu overwhelmed him. "Oh God, oh God- where the hell are you now?! What about your promises and-"

Click.

Ray looked up and saw the soldier they had saved. In his right hand was a gun. In his left, the dead body of Father Maxwell.

"So it was you," Ray remarked bitterly. "You killed all of them, when all we wanted to do was help you. And now you're going to kill me as well."

Father Maxwell's body was dropped onto the stairs. "Hn."

Ray stood up and closed his eyes. "Okay. Go ahead then."

There was a long pause and Ray opened his eyes. The muzzle of the gun was inches away from his face. "You are going to kill me, right?" he asked.

"Only if you want me to."

It was the first time he had heard the soldier speak. His voice was flat, like a computer talking. "You shouldn't have found me."

"Why?!" Ray cried, ignoring the gun. If he was dead, so be it. "Why did you kill them? They were innocent! Why damnit!!"

"They saw me."

Heero turned around and walked away.

"Damnit. Damn you! Why?!" Ray shouted at the retreating form. "You killed them. Why don't you make this a clean job and kill me too?"

The pilot didn't answer. 

Ray suddenly felt like this had happened before. Staring at the boy, he shouted, "Heero!"

The mere utterance of the word brought back memories. Memories of the virus that had killed Solo, of the explosion that had killed Father Maxwell and Sister Helen, of the first time he had met Heero, on the dock where he shot him. But that was another world, and another time. And Ray- no Duo -remembered the offer.

"I can bring it all back..."

He remembered accepting. He remembered floating above his body and watching as the others found him. He watched his own last moments, where Heero told him that he, the cold emotionless soldier he was, loved the braided baka.

It was a fake world he was in, and it was a fake life.

Duo did cry this time, and he cried for his friends- Quatre, who would spend the rest of his life hiding under his mask of cheerfulness until he was captured and raped, Trowa, whose pain would never be lessened and would self destruct to destroy a minor Oz base, Wufei, whose justice would never be found, and would die in a duel with Treize.

And Heero, who would never find his humanity.

When Duo felt Heero's bullet go through his brain, he was glad.

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~Owari~

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Well, wasn't that trippy. Please review!! It's my first time writing this kind of fic!!! Please, please, please!!!

Oh yeah... please?

-Ryo0oki

"Die! Die! Die! Die Blood Raven! See the power of my charged bolts!!"


End file.
